


it's not passing fascination

by persephoneggsy



Series: The One Where Victor Has A Beard [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Businessman!Victor, Clothed Sex, Condoms, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Inspired by Twitter, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Rimming, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Spanking, Suit Kink, Thirsty Katsuki Yuuri, Top Victor Nikiforov, also Bearded!Victor, barista!yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-18 11:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13099230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephoneggsy/pseuds/persephoneggsy
Summary: Yuuri longs for the days when he wasn't beseiged at work by an unreasonably attractive businessman who unwittingly does things to him by merely existing.Except, not really, because Victor Nikiforov is really, ridiculously, and obscenely hot.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title is from "Obsession" by OK Go
> 
> right, so this is inspired/based off a [twitter thread](https://twitter.com/phyxalia/status/944051994989281280) phyxalia did about bearded!victor and i am so weak
> 
> there's also [art](https://twitter.com/phyxalia/status/943816380914085888) just end me

* * *

 

It isn’t an understatement to say that Yuuri tries to get through life with as little fuss as possible. And at this point, his life isn’t all that exciting anyway; he goes to the café every morning at five, works through the early onslaught of coffee-deprived souls, and goes home at noon on the dot. Then he spends the rest of the day either at the ballet studio, or at home, watching classic Hollywood musicals and debating the age-old question of Astaire vs. Kelly with his roommate.

Unfortunately, the universe has apparently deemed Yuuri’s current status quo as _too_ boring, and thus decided to send in the game-changer… Daddy.

Now, of course, that isn’t his real name. Yuuri knows for a fact that his name is actually Victor; as in, Victor _Nikiforov,_ the owner of Champion Talent Agency, the main office of which is just across the street from the very café Yuuri works in.

(Yuuri did _not_ google him. That was entirely on Phichit. Yuuri was perfectly content with simply knowing him as Victor-with-the-hot-beard and leave it at that, thank you.)

This means three things: one, he’s a high-profile name in their area; two, he’s stupidly wealthy, which makes Yuuri wonder why he even comes to their tiny little café at all (probably convenience, he decides later); and three, Yuuri’s daddy kink has crawled out of the dark corner he’s tried to suppress it in and appeared in full force, leading to several inopportunely-timed fantasies about the man.

But could you _blame_ him? Victor’s the one who always walks into the shop with his three-piece bespoke suits, tailored so perfectly to his body that Yuuri can see the suggestion of his well-toned physique flexing under the fabric. And that’s not to mention his perfectly-coiffed silver hair, those deep blue eyes…

And the beard. Good god, the _beard._ Phichit likes to the call it the Beard with the capital “B”.

It’s not too long, cropped close to his face with an expertly-done trim. There’s not a single hair out of place; pink, always smiling lips are framed by the silky, silver hairs, and on more than one occasion, Yuuri’s caught himself wondering what it would feel like to be kissed by those lips.

He wonders a lot of things about Victor, actually. Many of those things would probably get him slapped with a restraining order if he ever said a single one of them out loud, so he does his best to keep them as quietly restrained as possible. The only exception to this is whenever Phichit needles him about it, but who can he vent to about ridiculously attractive businessmen if not his best friend?

Anyway. Since Victor’s starting coming to the café, Yuuri’s interacted with him a lot. Though the scope of said interactions starts with “May I take your order, sir?” and ends with “Have a nice day!”, Yuuri considers it a win that he hasn’t made a complete jackass of himself in front of Victor. At least, not yet.

The day It begins starts out perfectly innocuous, like any other day Yuuri’s worked at the café. It’s not too busy, so he lets Phichit handle the register while he restocks the pastries in the display window. The door opens with a soft jingle of bells, signaling the arrival of a customer, and Yuuri glances up automatically to say a greeting to whoever’s just walked in… but he stops just short of the words leaving his mouth.

Because it’s Victor. That’s not too unusual, of course, since this is around the time he comes in anyway (although, he’s almost ten minutes later now; not that Yuuri’s been counting), but what really catches Yuuri’s eye is today’s suit.

It’s distinctly incomplete. Instead of a jacket, Victor strolls in, casual as you please, with just a dress shirt and a vest covering his upper body. Yuuri didn’t think he even had a thing for that look, but here we are.

He glances, as surreptitiously as he can manage, out of the corner of his eye as Victor approaches the counter. He’s simultaneously jealous and relieved that Phichit’s the one taking his order. Honestly, while he loves getting as close a look as possible at Victor, he’s positive he’ll just turn into a stammering mess today.

But he can still look. Christ, his trousers look tighter today, too.

After Victor places his order and stands off to the side to wait – just a few feet away from Yuuri, to boot – he starts fiddling with his cuffs. It takes Yuuri a few seconds to figure out what he’s doing, since he has to keep looking away to avoid getting caught, but then it becomes clear. Victor is rolling the fabric of his sleeve up his arm, slowly exposing the most skin Yuuri’s ever seen on the man.

(It’s actually just his forearms, but still.)

_Holy shit._

Yuuri could already guess that Victor was fit just from the general way he looked. But to actually _see_ what was underneath, to see the toned muscles of his arms flexing under that pale, unblemished skin… _Hello daddy._

Yuuri can’t help it. His tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip as he drinks in the sight of Victor, trying to permanently embed it in his brain.

And then his gaze flickers up, meeting stunned blue eyes in return. Victor is looking right at him. He _saw_ that. The physical manifestation of Yuuri’s thirst, fueled by weeks of repression and wet dreams… Yuuri’s stomach drops to his feet. He’s so fucking dead.

Victor’s stunned expression quickly gives way. But not to one of anger, like Yuuri expects. Rather, he… He smirks. While still looking directly at Yuuri, his perfectly-shaped lips quirk up like a predator eyeing its prey. Yuuri freezes, his cheeks exploding red as the full force of Victor’s attention hits him.

His mouth suddenly feels dry, his head is spinning – Victor is laughing at him, isn’t he? He must get lustful glances and the like all the time. Yuuri’s just another admirer, right? How cute.

It’s the only explanation Yuuri can think to give for Victor’s expression. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get any more time to dwell on it, since Phichit’s just called Victor’s name for his order.

With one last lingering look – or maybe that’s just Yuuri’s imagination – Victor turns away and goes back to the counter to get his coffee. The moment he moves, Yuuri jolts, like he’s been snapped out of a daze.

He keeps his head down for the rest of his shift, ignoring Phichit’s prodding questions.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri’s fucked.

Honestly, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about yesterday since he got home. He’s been flustered and unfocused, which led to a very intense lecture from his ballet instructor about his poor form, which in turn led to a sleepless night caused by anxiety and frustration.

How _dare_ Victor, disturbing the relative uneventfulness of Yuuri’s life with his stupid, handsome face and fancy suits. Doesn’t he have better things to do than terrorize sexually unfulfilled baristas with his dumb smolder and muscular arms?

Yuuri ends up going to work that morning in a zombie-like state. Phichit, who usually takes to teasing Yuuri about his Victor-related issues, actually looked concerned, suggesting that he stay home for the day. But if Yuuri stayed home, he’d probably end up jerking off again while thinking about Victor, and really, he’s not a _teenager_. So off to work he went.

At least in this state he can’t give things much thought. He mostly moves on autopilot, taking orders and making coffee like he does any other morning.

When Victor walks in, Yuuri doesn’t do anything more than glance up and blink.

“Good morning,” he intones lethargically. “What can I get for you?”

Victor’s smile falters a bit, not that Yuuri notices. “I, um. The usual?”

Yuuri slowly nods, punching the order into the register and taking Victor’s money. As he gets started on the order, he doesn’t see the way Victor keeps looking at him strangely, but he _does_ notice his outfit. Yet again, Victor’s foregone a jacket and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows.

He bites back a wistful sigh while pouring the coffee into its cup. He might have to quit, at this rate. He can’t keep working here if Victor’s just going to keep finding new ways of wrecking him. It isn’t _fair._

With that thought, he scrawls Victor’s name onto the cup and puts it on the counter, not bothering to call out the man’s name, since he was standing right there.

“Have a nice day,” he finishes.

Victor frowns, but picks up his cup nonetheless. He opens his mouth to say something, but then he glances down at his cup and stops. His eyes go wide.

Yuuri blinks. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Slowly, and to Yuuri’s distress, another smirk crawls onto the man’s lips. “My, you are getting bold. I was starting to think yesterday was a fluke.”

“What?”

In lieu of answering, Victor turns his cup so that Yuuri can read what’s written on the side. Which doesn’t make sense at first, since Yuuri knows for a fact that it should be Victor’s name on the cup, but when he actually sees it –

Yuuri stares. Oh no. Oh _fuck,_ no.

It says fucking ‘ _Daddy’_ on his cup.

Victor continues to smirk like the cat who got the cream. He leans in over the counter – thankfully, the café isn’t full enough for there to be onlookers, and Phichit is doing inventory in the back – and pulls something out of his pocket to hand to Yuuri.

Yuuri, at this point, wants someone to crash their car into the café so that he can run away and never look back. Or maybe die. That’d be fine, too.

There’s a flash of white, and Yuuri is momentarily pulled from his internal crisis to see Victor holding a small card out towards him. He hasn’t lost that smirk at all, so Yuuri is hesitant to take the card. He does anyway, and sees that it’s… A business card. With Victor’s name, the address of his company, and a phone number.

Yuuri stares down at it, then looks back up at Victor, bewildered.

“Oh, uh,” Victor points to the card and moves his finger in a circle. “On the other side.”

Cautiously, Yuuri flips over the card and sees another phone number. Only, this one is written in pen, not printed on. Yuuri is still hopelessly confused, but luckily, Victor wastes no time in filling him in.

“I’ve been trying to give you that for ages,” he laughs. “I was going to yesterday, but I was running late and I wanted to talk to you for a bit before… Oh? Yuuri? Are you alright?”

Yuuri flinches and tears his gaze from the card. “This is… y-your number?”

He nods. “Yes. My personal one. The other is for work.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why give it to me?”

At this, Victor pouts – it really makes the pink of his lips stand out against his beard, Yuuri notes distantly.

“Because I want you to call me?”

“But - !” Yuuri flails. “Aren’t you – mad?”

“Why would I be mad…?”

Yuuri gestures to the coffee cup.

“Oh, this?” Victor smiles fondly at Yuuri’s fuck-up. “No, this is perfect. Just the motivation I needed. Didn’t you… do it on purpose?”

“No!” he shouts, causing Victor to startle.

“I… Oh.”

There’s an unbearably long pause after that, that seems to drag on for minutes. Finally, Victor coughs into his fist, looking embarrassed for the first time that Yuuri’s ever seen him.

“Ah. Well… Is this what they call a Freudian slip?”

“Oh my god,” Yuuri buries his face in his hands, almost wishing he could suffocate himself. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“Is it…?” Victor sounds put-out. “I mean, I _did_ just give you my number…”

“No, that’s - !” Yuuri groans, lifting his face. “I am so sorry.”

“What’re you apologizing for? I already said I was planning on giving it to you anyway, right?”

“But _why?_ I’m just – !”

“Gorgeous?” Victor interrupts, raising an eyebrow. “I saw you through the window and couldn’t get you out of my head. It’s why I’ve been coming here every day… I have a coffee maker in my office, you know.”

“… Oh.”

“So?” he prompts, leaning in closer. Yuuri, in reply, squeaks. “You’ll call me, won’t you?”

“I-I… U-Uh…” Oh god, he can’t do this. This isn’t real. He’s probably passed out in the storage room from exhaustion and this is all some weird dream he’s having.

Victor purses his lips, and then blinks, like he’s just gotten an idea. The smirk returns to his face as he leans in even closer, the hair of his beard brushing _just so_ against the skin of Yuuri’s cheek as he whispers in his ear, voice low and husky.

“Please, baby? Daddy will be so happy if you do.”

Yuuri _shrieks,_ backing away from the counter like it’s burst into flames. That action manages to get the few patrons of the café to look in their direction, though Yuuri can’t currently give a shit. He’s too busy staring wide-eyed at Victor, who seems to be hiding a chuckle behind one of his hands. He holds up his cup, the word _Daddy_ still facing Yuuri’s direction, and gives a cheerful wave, winking before turning around to leave.

Phichit emerges from the storage room with a frown. “I heard screaming. Is everything okay?”

Yuuri stares at him, and then back at the card still in his hands. Victor’s phone number stares back, equal parts taunting and tempting. Then he looks out the window of the café, where he can see Victor crossing the street to get back to his office.

“Phichit,” he says in a grave tone.

“Uh… Yes?”

“I think Victor Nikiforov wants to fuck me.”

A beat passes, and then Phichit envelops him in a hug so tight he nearly passes out.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys already know i'm gonna write a follow up where victor pounds the ever-loving hell out of yuuri


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR YOU FILTHY ANIMALS

* * *

 

Victor likes to consider himself a man of refined tastes; he wears only the finest suits, drinks only the finest champagne, and uses only top-of-the-line men’s beauty products. Everything he does, everything he owns, and everything he consumes is the best money can buy.

So when a quaint little coffee shop and café opens up across the street from his building, he doesn’t give it so much as a second glance. He’s got a state-of-the-art coffee maker in his office, after all; what need has he of a place that sells cheap coffee and stale breakfast scones?

Then the day comes that his expensive coffee maker _breaks_ right as he steps into the office. The repairs will only take a day or so, but in the meantime, Victor still needs something to pick him up in the morning, and so with great reluctance, he marches across the street to Ice Castle Café.

He doesn’t even get in the door before he spots _him_ through the window.

He’s fixing some of the pastries in the display window, so he doesn’t see Victor gawking, which suits Victor just fine. _‘Him’_ is five-foot-eight of soft skin, brown eyes, and sinful curves; he wears the bright blue apron proclaiming the café’s name on its front, and if Victor squints, he can see a nametag pinned to his chest.

 _Hi, my name is Yuuri!_ it proudly proclaims.

Yuuri reaches one hand up to brush a stray lock of midnight hair behind his ear, utterly oblivious to the bearded man staring at him from outside. Then, apparently satisfied with his work, he nods to himself with a little smile ( _fuck_ that’s cute) and turns around, trouncing happily back to the counter…

Victor ends up with a decent glimpse of his ass as a result. Yuuri is wearing tight jeans that ride a little low, so there’s a hint of skin peeping through… God help him, but that’s the finest ass he’s ever seen.

Victor’s feet carry him the rest of the way inside the café, and the rest, he supposes, is history.

 

* * *

 

“Someone looks happy this morning.”

Victor looks up from his phone with a wide grin – one he hasn’t stopped wearing since walking into the office that morning. Before him is Christophe, who smiles back, clearly amused.

“I am,” Victor chirps. “Is it that obvious?”

“You’re glowing,” Christophe snorts. “I’m going to go out on a limb and assume this has something to do with Cute Barista?”

“His name is Yuuri, Chris,” Victor says primly, but he does it with the same bright grin. “And… yes, it is. Look at this!”

He practically shoves his phone in Christophe’s face, causing the other man to flinch and blink at the screen for a few moments before leaning in to read it.

It being a text from Yuuri, received just this morning. It’s Yuuri’s day off from the café, so regrettably, Victor didn’t get to see him, but since giving the barista his number two weeks ago, they’ve exchanged regular text messages practically every day.

Christophe smiles as he reads the text, complete with cute emoticons. “You two are finally going on a date?”

“Yes!” coos Victor, pulling the phone back to gaze admiringly at it. “We’re going out to eat.”

“Oh?” Christophe smirks, a mischievous look overtaking his face. “And will the night end with you… ahem, _eating out?”_

Victor blinks. Then he snorts, shoving at Christophe with one hand. “That’s going a little fast, Chris.”

“Hey, you’ve only been fantasizing about this Yuuri for _months_. Don’t tell me you aren’t thinking about it.”

“Of course I’m _thinking_ about it,” Victor retorts. “But Yuuri is shy. I’m sure he’s not the type to put out on the first date.”

“Would you be disappointed if he was?”

Victor looks him dead in the eye. “Absolutely not. But I’m also willing to wait until he’s ready. I…” He stops short, a pink flush suddenly coming to his cheeks. “I really like him, Chris.”

Christophe smiles again, this time more sincerely. “It sounds like it.” Reaching out, he pats Victor on the shoulder. “Well, have fun. I’ll be praying for your dick.”

“ _Chris.”_

 

* * *

 

Victor picks Yuuri up from his apartment that night at seven, and compliments his appearance earnestly. Yuuri could be wearing a potato sack, honestly, and Victor would still find him irresistible, but the barista’s made an effort to dress up more than he usually does, and the effect leaves Victor speechless for a few seconds.

He’s wearing a simple white dress shirt and black shoes, complete with form-fitting trousers that perfectly accentuate the curves of his legs and hips. His hair is slicked back and out of his face, and something as simple as a hairstyle change shouldn’t arouse Victor so much, but…

He really hopes Christophe was serious about praying for his dick; he’s going to need it.

Dinner ends up being simple, but charming. They talk about anything they can fit into the hour, from the routines Yuuri practices for ballet, to some of Victor’s more… eccentric clients.

By the end of it, Yuuri can actually look Victor in the eye and smile, which Victor counts as a win.

Of course, regrettably, it comes to an end. Victor pays for the food (at his own insistence), they clamber back into his car, and then they drive back to Yuuri’s apartment. Victor, gentleman that he is, even goes so far as to walk Yuuri up to his door.

He can’t help but sneak glances at the younger man as they walk. The cute little tip of his nose, the fullness of his lips, and the flecks of gold in his irises really stand out, now that he has a closer look.

God, he really is beautiful.

“You know,” Yuuri starts quietly, startling Victor out of his reverie. They’re at the door, Yuuri’s hand holding his keys in the lock. “My, um… My roommate isn’t home tonight.”

“… Oh?” Victor says, just as softly. He doesn’t dare hope - !

“He’s staying with a friend,” continues Yuuri, staring not as Victor’s face, but the knot of his tie. His cheeks to the tips of his ears are bright red. “S-So, I’m… You know, alone.”

“Yuuri,” Victor begins, brow furrowed. “Are you inviting me inside?”

Yuuri glances up at him, peering with those big, brown eyes through thick eyelashes. Those oh-so-kissable lips part, and…

_“Yes.”_

Victor’s mouth is on him in an instant.

Yuuri reacts to the kiss with a gasp, opening his mouth for Victor’s tongue to slip right in. But the boy recovers admirably quickly, one arm wrapping around Victor’s neck to pull him in closer, while the other goes to fuss with the doorknob. Seconds later, they’re tumbling inside the apartment, still connected by their lips. Victor barely registers the sound of the door being kicked closed again by Yuuri.

What he does register is the pure feeling of euphoria he gets just from kissing this boy. His lips are as soft as they look, and he responds so readily to Victor’s advances. He’s even kissing back, now, tongue shyly dancing with Victor’s own.

Emboldened, Victor’s hands slide down the shorter man’s body, stopping only until his palms rest over the pert swell of Yuuri’s ass. Then, with a smirk pressed into the kiss, he squeezes.

Yuuri breaks off the kiss with a breathy gasp that goes straight to Victor’s cock. “Oh…!”

His head is tilted back, so Victor seizes the opportunity and places his lips upon the newly-exposed column of skin that is Yuuri’s neck. He nips at his jaw, earning more delicious gasps and whimpers, and all the while Yuuri holds him close.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, Yuuri?” Victor murmurs against his skin. Yuuri smells like shampoo and body wash, but there’s still the ever-present hint of coffee lingering behind it all. “Are you sure about this? If we keep going, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”

Yuuri groans, threading his fingers through Victor’s hair. “Don’t you dare stop,” he snaps, suddenly full of vigor and confidence. “I’ve been dreaming about this for _months,_ I can’t wait anymore… Get on with it already!”

Victor can’t decide if he wants to laugh or moan. He settles for the former, chuckling as he grabs another palmful of Yuuri’s butt. Yuuri yelps.

“Such a greedy boy. And rude, too,” he tuts. “Daddy will have to teach you some manners, won’t he?”

Yuuri shivers. “N-Not here. My room, please…”

Victor nods, letting Yuuri lead the way. Once they’re in his bedroom, the first thing he does is stride over to the bed and take a seat, much to Yuuri’s confusion.

“Um…” Yuuri fidgets in place just as Victor settles himself comfortably on the edge of his bed.

Victor crosses his legs and folds his hands over his knee, the very picture of calm.

“I want you to strip for me, baby boy.”

He’d be more hesitant, unsure of where the line really lies in this still-developing relationship, but whatever worries he has are promptly thrown out of the window as Yuuri readily complies… albeit with a furious blush.

Victor watches, rapt, as Yuuri slowly and shyly peels off each article of clothing. It’s… surprisingly erotic, even though Yuuri’s movements are awkward at best. But seeing more and more skin, like the softness of his thighs, his plush, dusky nipples, and his half-up erection is making Victor hard without even needing to touch himself.

“Beautiful,” he hears himself comment out loud.

Yuuri finishes taking off his socks and grimaces. “I’m really not…”

Victor holds back a sigh. “You really are. My sweet, beautiful, _sexy_ little Yuuri.” Uncrossing his legs, he pats his thighs invitingly. “Now, come here. Daddy wants to touch you.”

Yuuri gulps, but obeys, crossing the room to climb into Victor’s waiting lap. Victor’s hands settle on his waist, thumbs brushing across his hips with reverence.

“Oh, Yuuri… The things I want to do to you…”

Yuuri shudders, rolling his hips so that his cock rubs lightly against Victor’s clothed thigh. “Victor…”

Victor narrows his eyes. “That’s not what I want you to call me, baby boy,” he says dangerously.

The younger man bites his lip and bows his head in response, like he’s abashed. But the way he looks at Victor too coquettish for Victor to think he’s sincerely shamed.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Victor holds back a groan.

“That’s better. Now,” his hands travel around Yuuri’s hips, once again settling on his ass. “Tell Daddy what you want.”

Yuuri pauses. “I-I want… I want Daddy to fuck me. Please?”

The older man chuckles, pressing a quick, scruffy kiss to Yuuri’s jaw.

“That’s it. On the bed for me, baby. On your hands and knees.”

Yuuri scrambles to obey, crawling out of Victor’s lap to position himself on his bed, on all fours as instructed. Yuuri glances back, as if to search for Victor’s approval.

Victor whistles, admiring the curve of Yuuri’s back, the slope of his ass… Every part of him is absolutely stunning. Licking his lips, he stands and starts to take off his jacket, only for Yuuri to shout.

“W-Wait!”

Victor freezes, looking at Yuuri with a mix of surprise and concern. “W-What is it?”

“Can you…” The younger man licks his lips. “K-Keep the suit on…?”

A beat passes. Then Victor grins, letting his hands drop from his jacket. “Ask me properly, baby boy.”

Yuuri gulps. “Please, Daddy?”

With another smile, Victor says nothing, but walks around to stand at the foot of the bed, clothes fully intact. He’s learning an awful lot about his baby boy tonight, but he supposes he should’ve seen the suit kink coming.

Victor reaches a hand out and smooths his palm down Yuuri’s thigh, squeezing the soft flesh lightly before getting down on his knees. Before Yuuri can ask him what he’s doing, Victor’s mouth is peppering kisses against that same thigh, the hairs of his beard tickling the younger man’s skin.

“O-Oh!” gasps Yuuri, back arching with surprise.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Victor starts. “You really like my beard, don’t you?”

Yuuri’s embarrassed silence is answer enough.

A low chuckle rumbles in Victor’s throat. “I wonder…”

Using his hands, he settles one on Yuuri’s ass, prying the cheeks apart to expose his hole to his hungry gaze. Yuuri squirms, dropping to his elbows so he can bury his face in the bedsheets. Victor leans his face in, licking his lips in anticipation.

“You smell so clean, baby. Did you wash up here just for me?”

Yuuri whimpers – though Victor can’t see his face, he _can_ see the tips of his ears. They’re adorably red.

“No need to be shy about it,” he admonishes playfully. “It makes Daddy so happy, knowing how badly you’ve been wanting this. In fact, I think my baby boy should get a reward for being so prepared.”

Then, without any further warning, Victor presses his face between Yuuri’s cheeks and plants a kiss, directly onto his pretty, pink hole.

Yuuri _jolts,_ inadvertently pressing himself further into Victor’s face. “V-Victor!”

Victor immediately pulls his head back, frowning as Yuuri whines. “Ah, ah. If you want me to continue, you have to address me properly.”

“… D-Daddy,” Yuuri says softly. “I’m sorry.”

Smiling, Victor rubs a soothing palm against Yuuri’s butt. “It’s alright, baby boy.”

No sooner do the words leave his mouth when he pitches forwards again, eating the younger man out with fervor. Yuuri groans and swears at the assault, but he keeps pushing his hips back, as if wordlessly begging for more.

Idly, as his tongue dances around the tight ring of muscle, Victor wonders what it would be like for Yuuri to sit on his face. To have his darling baby writhing above him, riding Victor’s mouth like his life depended on it – and then imagining the beard burn he’ll have afterwards, too – Victor’s already stirring cock gives a wild twitch at the very idea.

But, as he slides a hand under Yuuri to grab his dick, he realizes that the younger man is already fully hard, dripping onto the sheets. He bookmarks his thoughts for a later day and finishes with a broad stripe licked up and across Yuuri’s entrance. He leans back to admire his handiwork, finding the pink ring wet and twitching – and the skin around it pleasantly rosy. Yuuri’s legs are twitching, too, with his toes still curling and uncurling involuntarily.

“Do you have lube, baby?” asks Victor, unable to bear putting the main event off any longer.

The man below him groans weakly, throwing out a hand to gesture at the bedside drawer.

Laughing under his breath, Victor gets up to retrieve the lube, finding it tucked away in the far corner of the drawer. There’s just enough left for tonight, he notes gratefully. Popping open the lid, he spreads a fair amount onto his fingers, taking a few moments to warm the liquid up as he walks back to his original spot at the foot of Yuuri’s bed.

Yuuri has finally lifted his head in the meanwhile, looking back over his shoulder with wide, anxious eyes. Victor’s gaze meets his. The older man smirks, tossing the bottle beside Yuuri’s leg. He lowers his hand back to Yuuri’s asshole, fingertips ghosting playfully over the skin before Yuuri lets out an impatient whine, and wiggling his hips enticingly.

“Still so greedy,” Victor remarks. “I really shouldn’t indulge such behavior, but…”

He finishes his sentence by pressing the pad of a lubed-up finger against Yuuri’s entrance and pushing in. To his surprise, it goes in easily, swallowed up by his baby boy’s hole and enveloped in a tight, wet heat. Blinking, Victor pushes even further, sliding in knuckle-deep as Yuuri keens.

“Wow,” he murmurs. “Don’t tell me you stretched yourself earlier?”

“I…!” Yuuri takes a few deep breaths before going on. “I couldn’t help it… I wasn’t sure if we were going to… tonight, so…”

“So you played with yourself before I even picked you up?” Victor asks, astonished.

“I-In the shower,” says Yuuri, voice small. “I started thinking about you, Daddy…”

Victor swallows the lump forming in his throat. Slowly, he also pulls out his finger and pushes it back in, working Yuuri open as he asks another question.

“… And if I just went home tonight? What would you be doing right now?”

“I’d…” Yuuri licks his lips. “I’d be t-touching myself.”

“Like this? Thinking of me?”

“Y-Yes – _ah!”_

Victor quietly slips in a second finger, while his other hand presses its palm urgently against the bulge in his trousers. He can feel a damp spot forming, ruining the expensive fabric, but he doesn’t give a shit. He _needs_ Yuuri to keep talking.

“Thinking of me doing _what_?”

“Fu… Fucking me…”

“Yeah? And how do I fuck you, baby boy?”

He manages a third finger into the younger man’s velvety heat, making him tremble and gasp. Then he curls his fingers just so, and Yuuri’s hole flutters greedily around him.

“L-Like I’m – nn…!” Yuuri pants. “Like I’m the only one who can satisfy you...!”

Victor gives a shaky breath. “Are you, baby?”

Their eyes meet again as Yuuri bites his lip. He makes for quite the ravenous sight, thinks Victor, on all fours with his ass in the air, three of Victor’s own fingers shoved inside his hole. It’s a sight he could gladly get used to.

Yuuri opens his mouth, replying quietly.

“Why don’t you fuck me and find out?”

Victor removes his fingers with a low groan, intending to do just that. With far less coordination than he normally possesses, he reaches for his pocket, pulls out his wallet, and fumbles to pull out a single foil-wrapped packet from its folds. When he manages it, he throws his wallet somewhere behind him, uncaring, and unzips his trousers, pulling them, along with his briefs, down just enough to finally free his hard, leaking cock.

Yuuri’s mouth falls open at the sight of it – temporarily striking Victor with the urge to crawl over and shove his cock inside that same mouth – and he pushes his ass up, spreading his legs further apart as if in invitation.

“Y-You’re… You’re so _big,_ Daddy…” he whispers, licking his lips.

Victor grins again, this time shark-like and predatory, as he tears open the packet and rolls the condom onto his cock in one quick, practiced motion.

“Just wait till you feel it, baby,” he murmurs, now reaching for the lube. He spreads the last of it onto his dick, aware of Yuuri’s burning gaze. Then, when he’s done, he grabs himself around the base, guiding the tip of his cock to Yuuri’s ass. It feels like they both freeze, caught with anticipation.

Yuuri’s hole flutters around the tip, like it’s trying to suck him inside. Victor, in response, holds back a fond laugh and finally pushes in. Yuuri opens easily for him, taking him inch by inch into that deliriously wonderful heat, tight and soft. It makes Victor moan, his hands reaching out to grip the younger man’s hips.

“Oh fuck,” he says, once he’s halfway inside. If he glances down, he can see the pink rim stretched wide around his girth. “Baby, you feel so good…”

Yuuri responds with a loud whimper and a push of his hips, taking in more of Victor with an unexpected surge.

Victor growls, tightening his grip on Yuuri’s skin (he might leave bruises – and _oh,_ wouldn’t that be a sight?) and jerks the younger man backwards onto his cock, fully sheathing himself inside. Yuuri wails, tossing his head back as his hole spasms around Victor.

Victor, despite wanting nothing more than to start plowing into the man beneath him, pauses. He waits for Yuuri to calm down before giving his ass a soft squeeze.

“Are you ready, baby?” he asks. “Daddy’s going to start fucking you.”

“Yes,” Yuuri moans immediately. “Yes, _yes,_ please…!”

He’s hiding a smile. “Please what?”

“Please fuck me, Daddy!”

And really; when asked like that, what can Victor do but comply?

He starts slow but deep, pulling out almost completely before pushing back inside, letting Yuuri feel every last inch of him penetrate his ass over and over. He builds a steady rhythm over this, and after a little while, he lets himself gets lost in the sensations, focusing purely on the way Yuuri clenches around him…

At least, until Yuuri speaks up.

“Faster, Daddy,” he says, voice strained and whiny. “I want more…”

Victor doesn’t even bother “reprimanding” him about not saying please. He only does as Yuuri asks and picks up the pace, moving his hips faster and faster, until the room is filled with the lewd sounds of flesh slapping flesh, and the combined cacophony of their moaning.

 _“Yes,”_ Yuuri shouts his approval, drool slipping out of the corner of his mouth. “Fuck, do me harder!”

“You’re so fucking dirty,” Victor grunts, even as he again follows Yuuri’s orders. It’s hard to tease the younger man, when he’s so damn erotic it’s all Victor can do to keep from coming too soon. He needs to gain the upper hand again somehow; but as he glances around, the only thing that catches his eye is the way his cock pistons in and out of Yuuri’s accommodating body, and the way the skin of his asscheeks ripple with every thrust.

Actually…

Moving on instinct, Victor rears a hand back and brings it, palm facing down, smacking onto the plush flesh of Yuuri’s right cheek.

Yuuri _screams_. And Victor would be concerned, really, were it not for the way the younger man tightens around him, momentarily rendering him speechless.

“Again!” Victor barely registers hearing Yuuri’s trembling voice call out. “Do that again!”

Yuuri is grinding his ass back, making Victor’s cock rub against his walls. He’s honestly stunned, in a distant sort of way; who would’ve guessed that the shy, adorable barista across the street could be so… kinky.

Not that Victor is complaining.

He raises his hand and spanks Yuuri again, earning a delighted mewl that drips from Yuuri’s mouth like honey. Impossibly turned on, Victor keeps it up, spanking the younger man’s ass every few thrusts. The skin is starting to turn pink, it _must_ sting, but Yuuri only tosses his head back and moans louder.

“Yes, yes, _yes_ …! Just like that, Daddy!”

Victor delivers a particularly harsh slap and growls. “Baby… You’re so fucking _filthy_ …!”

Yuuri freezes up with a choked-off cry, to Victor’s confusion. Then, with a jolt, he realizes that the younger man is _coming,_ his cock spurting onto the bed below while his hole tightens and convulses erratically around Victor’s own dick.

Victor, in his shock, freezes as well, staring at the back of Yuuri’s head with wide eyes. When his orgasm finally subsides, Yuuri’s arms and legs give out, making him collapse onto the bed. He ends up on his stomach in the puddle of come he just made, landing with a soft _squelch_.

Victor is left to stand and continue staring, though his eyes aren’t sure where to look. There’s Yuuri’s ass, hole still gaping like it’s begging to filled back up, which is _tempting as hell,_ but then there’s Yuuri’s face. His entire face is flushed and sweaty, and his carefully-styled hair is in disarray. His eyes are closed, but his mouth is open, drool still leaking out from the corner of his lips.

Either way, no matter where Victor looks, Yuuri is still fucking gorgeous.

He finally regains some semblance of calm and climbs onto the bed, draping himself over Yuuri’s lax body to press a kiss behind his ear. The ticklishness caused by his beard rouses Yuuri into opening his eyes, groaning softly as he does.

“Daddy…” he whispers, oh so beautifully.

Victor smiles and peppers more kisses on the back of Yuuri’s neck. “That was amazing, baby…”

Yuuri squirms underneath him. Doing so causes his ass to brush against Victor’s cock, and Victor lets out an involuntarily grunt.

“You…” Yuuri struggles to speak, as if his mouth is stuffed with cotton. “You didn’t come…”

He sounds… disappointed. Victor tries not to laugh.

“I didn’t. Care to help Daddy get off?”

Yuuri hums softly, wiggling some more to spread his legs wide across the bed. He reaches back with his hand to pull one of his asscheeks – the one thoroughly ravaged by Victor’s hand, thank you – to the side, presenting his gaping hole to a bewildered Victor.

“I, uh…” Victor stammers – he’s never stammered in his _life,_ what is this boy doing to him? “I didn’t mean…”

Yuuri makes a soft noise that sounds like a question. He’s still holding his ass open for Victor, dear God. Victor cock is throbbing, as if demanding that he get the _fuck_ back in there.

“I don’t want to overdo it,” Victor says carefully. “I-I might hurt you, Yuuri.”

There’s a beat, then Yuuri turns his head more so that Victor can see his expression. He’s _pouting,_ glaring at Victor the way a petulant child would at someone who’s patronizing them.

“I don’t care about that,” the younger man says insistently. “Fuck me again, Daddy. Use your baby boy’s ass to come…”

Victor almost chokes on his own spit. _“Holy shit.”_

Without another word, he lines his cock up with Yuuri’s waiting entrance and plunges back inside, to the hilt, making them both moan at the sudden movement. Victor settles his weight on top of Yuuri, pressing him into the mattress, though the younger man doesn’t seem to care. He only cries out in bliss when Victor immediately starts pistoning his hips, fucking into Yuuri with a much more frenzied and rapid pace than before.

Victor’s hands move just as quickly as his hips; one shoots under Yuuri’s chest, fingers latching onto and pinching one of his nipples. The other goes to grab at Yuuri’s face – those fingers end up slipping into Yuuri’s mouth, quickly becoming soaked with spit as Yuuri garbles his moans around them.

As the bed starts to creak in protest beneath them, Victor tucks his face next to Yuuri’s, letting his beard rub against the younger man’s cheek.

“So goddamn _good,_ baby,” he pants out. “So good for Daddy… Ah, _fuck!_ You’re gonna make Daddy come… Right in your sweet little hole… Mm, shit, baby boy, here it comes…!”

 _“Yesh,”_ moans Yuuri, muffled as it is by Victor’s fingers. “Fill me up, Daddy!”

“Agh!”

With one final, deep thrust in as far as he can get, Victor comes. The force of it is overwhelming – he can’t remember the last time he came _this_ hard. As in, hard enough that his eyes roll back and he’s gritting his jaw so tightly he thinks he could crack a tooth.

The condom fills up, and Victor can’t help a few more, shallow thrusts to work it completely out of his system. Yuuri can only whimper weakly under him. Reluctantly, Victor pulls out, pushing himself up so that he’s sitting upright, while Yuuri continues lying on his stomach.

He’s still panting when he works up the nerve to speak.

“Good God, Yuuri that was…”

He can’t even finish, because he can’t find the words. How exactly does one describe something akin to a religious awakening, anyway?

“Incredible…” Yuuri finishes, voice soft and strained. He turns to lie on his side, facing Victor. The older man almost gets hard again at seeing the come smeared on Yuuri’s torso, but he’s distracted from it as Yuuri continues. “It was seriously amazing, Victor…”

He’s smiling; Victor’s heart nearly stops. He’s just fucked an angel.

He manages to smile back, reaching out with his hand to cup Yuuri’s cheek tenderly.

“It really was. I’m glad we didn’t wait.”

“Me too… ah!”

Yuuri suddenly winces – he’d been trying to sit up, but he stopped abruptly in his movement. Victor immediately becomes fraught with concern as he urges Yuuri to lie back down.

“I did overdo it, didn’t I?” he laments.

“No, it’s fine!” says Yuuri hurriedly. “I asked for it.”

“Still…”

“Really, Victor.” Yuuri smiles shyly. “I, um… kind of like it, actually…”

Biting back another groan, Victor lowers himself to Yuuri’s level, so that their faces are mere centimeters apart. “Careful, baby. Keep talking like that and I’ll really lose control, next time.”

Yuuri licks his lips, his pupils wide and dark with lust. “But there’ll be a next time?”

“Of course,” Victor replies fondly. “Just name the time and place.”

“Could I…” Yuuri squirms nervously. “Um…”

“What is it, baby?”

“T-Tomorrow,” he stutters, avoiding Victor’s gaze. He’s gone back to being shy, Victor notes with delight. Such an interesting young man, his Yuuri. “I don’t have ballet tomorrow, so…”

Slowly, Victor feels a grin stretch across his face. “And I happen to have a few sick days piled up… How about my place, tomorrow night at six?”

Yuuri giggles and _god,_ it’s so cute. “I’m never going to walk again.”

Victor laughs. “Is that a no?”

Yuuri leans forward, brushing his lips against Victor’s in an almost chaste manner, compared to what they just did. When he pulls away before Victor can deepen the kiss, he murmurs against the older man’s lips, his eyes hooded and tempting.

“It’s a yes. Take care of me tomorrow, too, Daddy.”

Victor’s already decided. He fucking loves this boy.

“With pleasure, baby.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at this point i think i'm incapable of not writing yuuri as a real kinky boy
> 
> oh well


End file.
